The Many Deaths of Christian Grey
by Vaneria Potter
Summary: What it says on the tin. How Christian Grey met his end by way of characters from various fandoms. Multi-fandom crossover. Suggestions welcome. Chapter One: Damon Sadi would like a few words, Sadist to sadist.
1. Black Jewels

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fifty Shades of Grey, or any of the associated characters. Nor do I own any of the other fictional characters who serve Mr Grey his much-justified desserts._

 _Summary: Basically what it says on the tin. Christian Grey meets his demise at the hands of other fictional characters. Crossover with multiple other fandoms._

* * *

 **The Many Deaths of Christian Grey**

Ana Grey, formerly Anastasia Rose Steele, walked into the sweeping mansion that she shared with her husband and two children, looking at the clock and deciding that she still had an hour to relax before she had to pick up Teddy and Phoebe from daycare.

Maybe a bubble bath, with some of those expensive, floral-scented products that Christian had brought back from a business trip to Paris. Managing Grey Publishing was an exhausting job.

Most CEOs of a publishing company would work Nine-to-Five at least, if they didn't bring their work home with them, but Ana was proud of the support team she had amassed below her, who took care of everything and only brought her papers to sign occasionally, leaving her free to spend most of her day emailing her stunning husband, taking personal calls and long lunch breaks, and go home early.

Sometimes Ana thought that her staff were working around her, but Christian always seemed to have plenty of free time when they were dating, so she was probably just imagining things.

Ana was about to summon Gail to draw her a bath and bring a glass of fancy french wine, when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

The woman was unfairly beautiful, with long black hair, exotic golden-brown skin, and eyes like melted gold. A modest green dress complimented her stunning looks, though the… shawl? cape?… whatever it was she had over the top looked quite bulky. She wasn't blonde, and had an air of kindness that made Ana think that they could easily have been friends.

Or perhaps not, given the faint, but visible, disapproving frown on the woman's face.

Instinctively, Ana's hackles went up. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house? Mrs Taylor would have told me if she needed to hire more help."

It was a calculated insult, aimed to remind the woman that Ana was more independent, richer and more important than she was, and that this foreigner didn't stand a chance with Ana's husband. But despite the flash in her eyes, there and gone in an instant, the woman appeared neither insulted nor intimidated. "My name is Marian Yaslana, and I'm here because you need a few things pointed out to you."

 _Yaslana_? What an odd name. European, perhaps? "What do you mean?"

Marian shifted, her shawl giving her an almost-hunchbacked appearance. "Anastasia, I know that it is hard to leave everything behind for the unknown, and that a lifetime of feeling inferior can be hard to overcome, but you can't just wait around for it to get worse. I did, and nearly died for it."

Ana sighed, already bored with the conversation. Marian was the first to outright state her opinion, but this was far from the first time that a woman had tried to hint that Christian, the best thing to ever happen to her, might not be. Ana had brushed their hints and suggestions aside, convinced that the women only wanted her out of the way so that they could have a shot at her Fifty Shades.

Still, Marian wasn't the tan blonde that Christian liked in the office, or the pale brunette that he liked in his bed. There was no need to get angry at her. "It's not like that, really. Christian just likes to be in control, and I like having someone look after me, for once. Its totally understandable, with our childhoods. My dad died before I was born, and my mom jumped from husband to husband. Ray, my stepdad, is nice, but he never says much, and his idea of comfort is making tea. I had Kate, in collage, and her family paid for stuff, but she's like a walking inquisition!"

Ana smiled, expecting Marian to understand that she and Christian were both a little damaged, but that was what made them such a perfect couple, that they could forgive each other's flaws, rather than letting it drive them apart. Ana had forgiven Jose for kissing her while she was drunk, forgiven Kate for shouting at Christian when she discovered the Submissive Contract, and forgiven Christian for ignoring her safe-word. She could forgive Marian for making assumptions.

To her surprise, the other woman did not look horrified at Ana's history of misfortune, or even sympathetic. Instead, Marian growled. "You had a stepfather who loved you, a friend who financially supported you, and your mother had several partners. This makes you think that life is unfair? I spent longer than you can imagine treated like a slave by my family, because I wasn't gifted in a way that made them look special and important! My father sold me to repay a gambling debt! My sister-in-law was repeatedly raped and abused as a child, to the point that she spent two years in a coma!"

That was why they had left Jaenelle back in Khaleer, attending to some of her duties as Queen, with Surreal to distract her if Jaenelle finished before they did. Khaleer's Heart didn't need to be reminded of Briarwood just because some silly girl wanted to feel like a martyr.

Lucivar had argued that Marian didn't need to be reminded of the abuse she had suffered from her family, either, but Marian had made her peace with her past years ago, and with the fact that her father, if not her entire family, had most likely been caught up in the Cleansing of the Blood. She could make Ana face the truth without becoming so enraged that she accidentally killed her, which was a very real risk with the darker-jewelled blood.

Ana's mouth dropped open. No one had ever put it like that before, and for a moment, she felt like the world's biggest child. The whiny bitch or attention whore that she always silently accused other women of being, whether they were a shy waitress or a confident businesswomen. But she wasn't ready to face that thought. "Well… well, Christian's mother was a crack-whore who didn't protect him from her pimp, and he was alone with her for days when she died! Then he was shunted between foster homes, with no-one to love him. It's not his fault that he only knows one way to show affection."

Anger flashed in Marian's eyes again, before she visibly calmed herself. "Whores are people who do what they must to survive, and assuming that they are weak is a mistake. My husband was shunned because he was believed illegitimate. He was an unwilling slave for countless women, for longer than you've been alive. He's not the most cultured of people, and he definitely has a temper, but he never used that, or his past, as an excuse to abuse me."

Well, it couldn't have been that bad, then, if Marian's husband hadn't been traumatised by it. Ana was diplomatic enough not to tell the other woman that she was over-reacting and that other people had suffered worse, so she tried to change the subject. "You know, I'm sure if you meet Christian, you'll see he's not like that."

Marian patted Ana on the arm. "I don't think that will be necessary."

There was something about the way Marian said it that made Ana's blood run cold. Jack Hyde had spoken with the same satisfaction when he spoke about making Christian suffer. Marian looked like she wouldn't hurt a fly, but somehow, Ana had the feeling that the other woman could be dangerous, if she chose to be.

Marian's smile was calm, her voice almost a croon, yet somehow it sent a thrill of terror down Ana's spine. "My husband and brother-in-law are having a talk with him now. If he truly is the paragon of virtue that you claim, he will be fine."

If not... well, Lucivar had opinions about abusers. He tended to deliver those opinions very decisively. Daemon would simply kill Christian and make him enjoy it, but when Marian left, Lucivar was trying to convince his brother to remain with Jaenelle. The Sadist would draw too much attention here.

But Damon Sadi had never been one to sit back while the innocent were abused, and Jaenelle's abuse was a particular trigger point. Even Lucivar, Warlord Prince and Eyrien warrior that he was, knew that there were limits to how far The Sadist could be pushed.

Marian knew how dangerous it was to be anywhere near her husband's brother (or her husband) when they rose to the killing edge. She found herself hoping that Mr Grey provoked the brothers into such a mood.

If anyone deserved the wrath of The Sadist and the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih, it was Christian Grey.

* * *

Christian walked into the Seattle penthouse, making a beeline for a very special room.

He was annoyed that he had to re-stock the Playroom, but ever since Gail had put her foot down and told him that sterilising sex toys was way above her pay-grade, and obviously he couldn't ask his security detail to waste time cleaning, it was easier to buy new toys than to clean the old ones himself. He had offered to give his Housekeeper a raise, but she had insisted that there wasn't enough money in the world.

Christian had wanted to include a Playroom in the house he built for Ana and his family, but then Teddy had happened, and Ana had said that unless he wanted to explain BDSM to a curious child who explored everywhere and repeated _everything_ he heard to anyone who would listen, the most they could have in the house was a few toys in a locked bedside cabinet, and the Playroom at his apartment.

He planned to whisk his wife away for the weekend, leaving the kids with Elliot and his wife. He hadn't asked if his brother and the blonde he had insisted on marrying wanted to take the hyperactive four-year-old and the girl who was afflicted with a case of the terrible-twos, on top of little Ava. Nor had he asked if they might have plans of their own. Or if Ana even wanted to go away, rather than having a quiet weekend at home.

He was the Dominant in their relationship, no matter how bad a submissive his wife made. Exercising control didn't mean asking for permission.

Christian game to a very abrupt halt when he saw that the room was already occupied by two men. Both had black hair, golden eyes, tan skin, and dangerously blank expressions, but that was where the similarities ended.

One was tall and muscular, dressed in leather and with - Christian had to blink several times to make sure he wasn't seeing things - large, bat-like wings. The other was the most attractive person Christian had ever seen, radiating raw sexuality, dressed in black pants and a white silk shirt.

For a moment, Christian wondered if he might be Gay, as his family had assumed, after all, but he shook that thought off immediately. He was nothing so disgusting as that. "Who are you, and how did you get in here?"

Stupid fucking security team! Sure, he had ordered them to wait for him outside, but they should have warned him! What did he fucking pay them for?

The man with - Christian struggled to wrap his mind around the concept - wings regarded him for a moment, before his lips curled into a slow, lazy, arrogant grin. Christian gritted his teeth; it was the same smile he had seen - and hated - a thousand times over. The smile of one who thinks that you are dirt under their feet, and don't need to prove that they are better than you.

It was a smile that Christian itched to punch off of the wearer's face, which was how many of his schoolyard brawls had started. Looking at the man's stance and muscular build, very similar to that of Jean-Claude, however, Christian thought that it might not be a good idea. It might put Ana out of the mood for sex.

The winged man apparently decided that he had made Christian squirm enough, and answered the question. "Lucivar Yaslana. As for why we're here… you've got a Tainted mind, boyo, and where we come from, there are penalties for people who abuse women. My wife is talking to your wife about it as we speak."

Someone had actually been willing to marry this freak of nature? Perhaps she could be threatened or bribed to be used against him. No one scared Christian Grey and got away without punishment. "You have a wife? Aren't you concerned about her safety when you aren't there?"

Lucivar smiled, but there was no warmth or humour in it. "Marian can look after herself. I told her once that if she got hurt because she was too stubborn to defend herself, I would beat the shit out of her." Well, that was an idea Christian could get behind… "She told me that if I ever raised a hand to her, she would gut me."

Wait, what? How emasculated was he, that this man could let a woman talk to him like that? But there was pride in his eyes, pride and adoration of a woman who stood up to him. Deciding not to dwell on that, Christian turned his attention to the other man. "And you?"

The cultured, well-dressed man also smiled, and Christian had to remind himself again that he was not gay. He did not find men attractive, even if they oozed raw sexual energy like this one did. "Daemon Sadi SaDiablo, occasionally known as The Sadist. You may call me Prince Sadi."

Christian tried for a confident smile, thinking that at least one of the men was finally speaking a language he understood. Some of his former Submissives had called him a sadist, too, even if Daemon SaDiablo sounded like a stage name. Best not to let Ana meet him. "You're a dominant?"

The handsome man smiled as well, but it was all teeth, the smile of a predator who finds it amusing to let the prey think it has a chance. "No, I mean that people called me The Sadist, because of what I did to the people who crossed me or harmed those I cared about."

* * *

Anyone in a two-mile radius who had even a flicker of psychic intuition shivered and looked around, as the Black power lashed out, and retreated just as swiftly. The sons of the High Lord of Hell lowered the shields that protected them from getting splattered, and caught the psychic wind to where Marian waited for them.

It was fitting, after all, that what Christian's wife had dubbed the 'Red Room of Pain', be painted with the blood of its owner.

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* * *

A/N: _This has been floating around in my head since I read das-mervin's sporking of the trilogy, and the many spitefics that the trilogy has generated._

 _For those who haven't read the Black Jewels Trilogy: go and do so. It's a fantastic, dark, enthralling series that should probably come with a trigger warning. At first, I planned on Jaenelle being the one to show up to deal with Christian, but I can't write Jaenelle for crap, so Marian, Lucivar and Daemon it was._

 _Constructive criticism is much appreciated, as are suggestions for any other fandom that you want to see have a crack at Grey._

 _In other news: I'VE FINALLY BEEN PUBLISHED! '_ ** _Cinderella Grows a Spine_** _' and '_ ** _The Highwayman's Legacy_** _' are now available through Amazon, and both have sequels in the works._

 _Thanks,_

 _Nat_


	2. Ghostly Travels

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Fifty Shades Trilogy, for which I am profoundly grateful._

 _Summary: See Previous Chapters_

 _A/N: Prompted by Chapter 15 of FSoG, specifically by this line in Gehayi and Ket's sporking of it:_ ** _GEHAYI:_** _…I need to write a spitefic where he's having this conversation with an asexual teetotaler with a spine._

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Ghostly Travels**

Going to England on her honeymoon had always been Ana Steele's dream.

Well, Ana Grey, now, but that didn't change the fact that she had always wanted to see the places that had inspired the great classical writers she loved. Christian had wanted to spend the entire honeymoon in the hotel, but she had eventually convinced him that the point of going to a different country was to spend some time seeing the sights. Ana dreaded to think how her new husband would react to the topless beaches of Monte Carlo.

For the moment, Ana was browsing the gift shop at the information centre in Windermere, looking through the brochures for tours of the Lakes District, the most-written about part of the English Countryside, and casting a critical eye over the selection of trinkets.

She looked up, startled, when a quiet voice spoke from nearby. "I'd go with either the Beatrix Potter or the Explorer tours, depending on what you like."

Ana blinked. The speaker was a lovely blonde, the kind that never failed to make Ana's inner goddess flare up in suspicion and fury. The accent wasn't European, which was a blessing (those European Blondes never seemed to get the hint that Christian was with Ana, and not available for flirting!) but Ana's inner goddess still cringed at how much she resembled the popular girls in High School.

She must have stared for too long, because the blonde raised an eyebrow, though she seemed to be looking past Ana. "Are you ok?"

Ana nodded brusquely. "I'm fine. Are you here with anyone?"

Not that any potential boyfriend could possibly compare with Christian, of course, but most blondes at least had the manners to avoid flirting with Ana's husband in front of their partners. Thankfully, the blonde nodded. "Lizzy's in the pub across the road. She sent me to check out the history book selection while she waited for a table. Didn't trust herself not to spend all of our money on books if she came, and I needed a break from the crowd."

Ana tried to hide her shock. The blonde was far too pretty to be gay! Still, at least it meant that she wasn't a threat to Ana's days-old marriage, and Ana felt herself warming to the woman. "I'm Ana Grey. I'm here on my honeymoon. Finally talked my husband into going on a day-trip, rather than staying in the hotel room."

The blonde looked sympathetic. "I'm Tina Barnes, and congratulations. The information centre probably has taxis on call, if you need one. Chronic medical conditions can be tough to deal with."

Why would this stranger assume that either of them had a chronic medical condition? Oh, the comment about not leaving the hotel room. Well, if Tina assumed that Christian being fifty shades of fucked-up was medical in nature, rather than BDSM, Ana felt no need to correct her.

There was a chime, Tina pulled her phone out of the pocket of her hoodie. She looked at the text and frowned, slipping it back into her pocket. Ana hoped it wasn't bad news, and went back to comparing the available tours. A few minutes later, the phone chimed again, and this time Tina grinned viciously, showing Ana the screen.

There were two texts. The first one read:

' **rich jerk bribed waiter to jump Q.'**

The second read:

' **rich jerk b** **ribed waiter into sharing table. Giving sleezy looks and trying to order for me. Get over here now!'**

Ana felt sympathetic, remembering Jack Hyde, her old boss. Tina shrugged. "Lizzy's too nice. She'll shut down the conversation, but I'm better at scaring off creeps than she is. After the last couple of days, I'll enjoy tearing down a jerk who thinks his plumbing makes him entitled to attention."

Ana smiled graciously, grabbing a few of the brochures. "I'm supposed to be meeting Christian soon, anyway. I'll come with you."

* * *

Christian didn't bother with the line at the cafe. Instead, he walked up to the podium and slipped the waiter several twenty-pound bills and a dazzling smile.

Waiting for a table was for people who couldn't afford special treatment, not Billionaires like him. Ana was in the information centre, and with her meagre intellect, would either be several hours as she tried to decide on just one, or would end up so confused that she would call him to decide, and he could convince her to just go back to the hotel again. The gift shop had several books written in the 1800's about the Lakes District, which should buy Ana's compliance.

Despite the obvious bribery, the waiter hesitated. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have another priority in the queue."

Christian fought back an instinctive surge of fury. Who could possibly be more important than him? He forced another smile, this one with a hint of bared teeth. "I'm sure we can share."

The waiter shrugged, the need or desire for extra money winning over. "Well, I can ask her, at least. Wait here, please, sir."

Christian smirked as the waiter walked over to the bar, where a brunette woman was talking to one of the bartenders as she cleaned glasses. People on minimum wage were so easy to manipulate. Just wave a few bills at them, and they fell over themselves to be helpful. If only the crack-whore had been so compliant, Christian wouldn't have grown up in poverty, and wouldn't be as fucked up as he was.

Instead of focusing on his traumatic childhood, Christian studied the woman who was his competition for a table.

The first think he noticed was that her arm was in a sling, demonstrating the vulnerablily that he found so attractive. He couldn't see her eye colour from here, but her hair was the brown that he preferred. She was frowning, questioning something that the waiter was saying, and Christian had the urge to beat the defiance out of her.

Eventually, however, she nodded, sending a text on her phone before following the waiter to a table. She was wearing a long skirt and a turtleneck, telltale signs of the kind of woman who acted the prude, but never resisted long once Christian got them into the Red Room of Pain. Deep inside, Christian smirked. All women were whores, really, just like his mother. The pleasure lay in breaking in the ones who just hadn't admitted it yet.

Besides, if Ana saw him with a new submissive, perhaps it would ignite her insecurity for his exploitation. He had more enjoyable things in mind that sitting on a bus looking at mountains and lakes all day with a bunch of people who were probably on the only trip they would ever take.

He joined the woman and the waiter, pulling out a chair for the woman, who did not look as impressed as his targets usually did, but nodded her appreciation. She sat down, but raised a very direct eyebrow. "You know, I'm sure there were people ahead of you in the line."

Christian shrugged, giving her the kind of look that made Ana melt. "You'll find I'm an exception to most things, my dear."

She frowned. "Don't call me that. We are not on familiar terms, and you are not making yourself very agreeable company."

Cristian really looked forward to beating the defiance out of her, as she sent another text. She had better not be texting a boyfriend. "I'm not used to people giving me that kind of attitude. It's intreguing."

It wasn't, and he found it infuriating, but women liked to think that they were special. The waiter returned and he turned to order. "We'll have three Angus fillet mignon, with green vegetables and fries. And a bottle of the most expensive wine you have."

He doubted that it would be very good, but since they were the only non-vendor food source around, it would have to do. The woman's expression softened a little as she looked at the menu. "Are you waiting for company, too? I'll have-"

He took the menu out of her hands. "I've ordered for us already. Don't be rude and ungrateful."

* * *

Lizzy thought some very impolite words at the dictionary definition of 'overgrown entitled fratboy', wondering if there had been one of the social cues that she was so good at missing, because he had very obviously misinterpreted her willingness to move away from the uncomfortable bar seats and share a table too big for two people in a crowded cafe as something more intimate. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't drink, and fillet mignon, of any kind, isn't on the menu. Besides, I can't use both utensils at once right now."

Tina had been very nice about cutting things into bite-sized pieces for her, as had Madge while they were at the _Journeyman's Rest_. Lizzy didn't trust this guy with her food any further than she could throw a mountain.

The jerk scowled. "I'm sure they can come up with something. Don't defy me, I don't like that in a partner."

Good grief, he was worse than the kids who thought that meat magically appeared in the supermarket and complained when she made rabbit stew to bring in for lunch. More than that, he was acting like the kind of control freak people had to move states or countries to get away from.

The man's expression turned vaguely menacing, and he reached out to take her hand, the only part of that arm outside of the sling, and pulled it toward him. Wincing at the sting as the movement tugged at her still-healing limb, Lizzy pulled away.

What the hell was wrong with this guy? Even leaving James and the two dates they had gone on so far out of the equation, Lizzy had been doing her best to telegraph 'Not Interested' since she sat down. And who just up and propositioned someone they had known for all of five minutes in a cafe in broad daylight?

Under the table, moving her functional arm as little as possible, Lizzy texted Tina a quick SOS and got ready to run if necessary. This, Ladies and Gentlemen and Scumbags, was a textbook example of rape culture and toxic masculinity. "I don't know if you've been aiming euphimisms at me until now and I just haven't noticed, but I'm asexual. I am not in any way, shape or form, interested in anything that you are offering."

She did her best not to flinch when his expression turned from menacing to enraged, standing up and grabbing her bag. The last time she had seen that expression on someone's face had been in Bess's memory of the night she died, a look of unhinged fury on the face of an Officer when Bess triggered the musket that warned John of the trap that awaited him.

There was no way any sane women would stick around in the face of that kind of anger.

* * *

How dare she speak to him like that, the ungrateful bitch? He stood up and tried to grab her again, this time more forcefully, but she slammed her knee into his groin and pushed him away, darting out of the cafe and across the street. Trying to will away the agony, Christian started to follow her.

The last thing he was aware of was a loud horn, and the screech of someone trying to hit the brakes.

* * *

Tina sighed in relief as Lizzy walked back in, and the distant sound of sirens could be heard.

If she had been forced to listen to Ana blather on about how wonderful and amazing and totally not an abusive, stalker douchebag her husband was, she might have attempted to stab the nitwit with a spoon.

Alright, so the potentially-impaired twit didn't have Tina's ability to see the nine very similar-looking ghosts that had attached themselves to her (usually a blaring red alarm of a potential serial killer that necessitated an anonymous tip to the local police) and were alternating between sobbing out their tale of woe to Tina, and whispering caution to Ana.

Tina had retroactively witnessed some very sickening deaths in her time, but these nine were carrying the emotional equivalent of something she usually only saw in dungeons.

It was both a pity and a relief that Ana would never know how lucky she was that her modern-day-Bluebeard of a husband never made it back from their honeymoon.

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* * *

 _A/N: Before any FSoG fans complain. Both Christian and Ana's behaviour is entirely Canon, and personal attacks will do nothing to convince me otherwise._

 _Tina and Lizzy are the main characters in my first book "_ ** _The Highwayman's Legacy_** _", and it's recently-published sequel, "_ ** _Eternity's Invitation_** _". Lizzy is Demisexual, which is on the asexual spectrum and essentially means that she needs a very strong emotional connection before she feels sexual attraction, and she tends to avoid alcohol as a personal preference. Tina is a psychic with the ability to see ghosts that have died in a gory or traumatic fashion (ie, most of them), and a very low tolerance for bullsh*t. They are not in a relationship, but pretending in the face of unwanted attention is a common tactic._

 _If you want a timeline, you can consider this to take place shortly after the epilogue of the first book, when Tina and Lizzy are returning home._

 _Both books can be found at Amazon . com, under the pen-name Natasja Rose, along with my other published works._

 _As always, feedback and constructive criticism are much appreciated. Tantrums from Christian-Lovers are amusing, but personal abuse, toward me or other writers, is not tolerated._

 _Thanks,_

 _Nat_


End file.
